Watch Hollow: The Alchemist's Shadow

By Gregory Funaro and Matt Griffin

“There is magic, there is good and evil, and there is love all woven into a suspenseful and entertaining mystery.”—School Library Journal (starred review)

New York Times bestselling author Gregory Funaro brings us the second installment of the thrilling Watch Hollow series, where magic exists, monsters roam, and wooden animals come to life.

Having defeated the Garr, a vicious tree monster who lived within the enchanted woods of Watch Hollow, Lucy and Oliver Tinker now have the home they’ve always dreamed of: Blackford House. Powered by a magical clock and full of curious rooms and improbable knickknacks, Blackford House brims with the promise of new adventures.

Yet when a strange governess arrives from England—bringing with her the Kojima twins, Agatha and Algernon—the Tinker children’s once bright future quickly begins to dim. The Kojimas claim to be the rightful heirs to Blackford House, and soon after their arrival, a great evil enters the Tinkers’ new home, cursing it and turning it into an ever-changing labyrinth.

As a result, Lucy and Oliver, along with their clock animal friends, must now join forces with the twins to escape this labyrinth and save Blackford House, all while a new monster lurks around the corner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Feb 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9780062643506

Gregory Funaro

Gregory Funaro grew up in Cranston, Rhode Island, and wrote his first story, “The Ghost in the Window,” in the fourth grade. He considers this to be his finest work, but unfortunately it has been lost to time. His other more recent works include the New York Times bestselling Alistair Grim’s Odditorium series. Greg lives in North Carolina, where he teaches drama at East Carolina University.

Book preview

Prologue

What took you so long? the old man croaked, and Bedelia Graves stepped into the darkened study. Her employer was sitting in his wheelchair just outside a shaft of light from the hallway—his withered frame a lump of shadow in the gloom.

My apologies, sir, said Ms. Graves. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting, but Algernon had some trouble falling asleep.

Excited about the move to the States?

No doubt, sir, said Ms. Graves, dropping her eyes. She was lying. Algernon had had a nightmare—or at least, that was what Ms. Graves assumed. The boy hadn’t spoken in nearly two years, so it was often hard to tell. Nevertheless, of one thing she was certain: Algernon hated the idea of moving to the States.

But one did not complain to a man like Oscar Snockett.

"Perhaps it’s that doll of his—that Kenny, he said. Never mind the boy’s absurd attachment to such a thing, the smell of it is enough to wake the dead."

Ms. Graves could not see the old man’s face in the darkness, but she could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling. Ms. Graves nodded and smiled back. True, the fact that a twelve-year-old boy should be attached to such a thing was a bit absurd—not to mention, Kenny did smell like sour milk. His clothes were tattered, his hair was tangled, and the tip of his nose was missing. But without Kenny, Ms. Graves thought, Algernon might never sleep again.

And what of—the other one? asked Mr. Snockett. That snarky girl?

Agatha, sir, Ms. Graves said gently. And she went out like a light.

Mr. Snockett heaved a wheezing sigh. The way a child should be, he said. Quiet, respectful, and obedient. Smelly dolls aside, I’ll grant you’ve done well by them this past year.

Ms. Graves pressed her lips together tightly. She’d been governess to the Kojima twins for nearly two years—but one did not correct a man like Oscar Snockett.

And what about you, Ms. Graves? the old man said, his wheelchair squeaking. Are you excited to leave your native England and take up at Blackford House? I’m certainly paying you quite handsomely.

Mr. Snockett was leaning forward now, closer to the light. His sagging, shriveled face looked like a skull in the shadows—his cheeks hollow, his eyes empty and black and yet piercing just the same. Ms. Graves swallowed hard. Even here, in the darkened study, she felt as if Oscar Snockett could see into her very soul. Mr. Snockett was paying her quite handsomely—not to mention, it had always been a secret dream of Bedelia Graves to move to the States. But in the end, that’s not why she’d agreed to move.

I’m content to look after the twins wherever you see fit, sir, said Ms. Graves. We’ve grown quite fond of each other and . . . well, they need me, sir.

"Well, that’s the plan, isn’t it?" growled Mr. Snockett, and Ms. Graves’s heart began to pound. One did not want to irritate a man like Oscar Snockett.

I meant no disrespect, sir, said the governess. I only wished to express my gratitude for being allowed to go on serving you and your family.

Mr. Snockett sneered. "My family, he said sarcastically. A great-niece and great-nephew I’d never met until their parents up and died on them. Family indeed. If I wanted children about the place, I’d have had them decades ago."

Bedelia Graves remembered very little from decades ago. Granted, she was only thirty-two, but she felt much older. Perhaps it was because she’d spent so much time trying to forget her childhood that the memory of it seemed farther back than it really was. And what was there to remember anyway? Loneliness? A dingy flat in Leeds and the desperation to escape a father who treated her more like a servant than a daughter? Her mother had left them when Bedelia was ten, and the memories afterward were . . . well, not worth remembering.

All that changed, however, when Bedelia Graves came to work for The Agency at the age of nineteen. There had been other children, of course, but none like Agatha and Algernon Kojima. And in the two years since Oscar Snockett hired her to look after them in his dark and dreary mansion, Bedelia Graves had broken The Agency’s cardinal rule: she’d grown to love them.

The governess cleared her throat and stood up straight. You’ve been more than generous, sir. The children are forever in your debt. As am I.

Are you now?

A heavy silence hung about the room, and then Mr. Snockett’s wheelchair squeaked and his face sank back into the shadows.

In any event, he said, "Blackford House belongs to the twins. I never liked their father. I’ve made no secret of that. Prancing about with his silly puppets. But I’ve always had a soft spot for my niece, despite her going against my wishes and marrying that fool. Nasty business, sometimes. Family. But in the end, we Snocketts do take care of our own—no matter how inconvenient."

The old man had popped the final t of inconvenient so sharply that it sounded like a twig snapping. Ms. Graves flinched.

I’ve personally seen to all the necessary arrangements, Mr. Snockett continued. Immigration details, accounts, disbursement of your salary and whatnot. You and the twins shall be well provided for, but I do not wish to be troubled any further. Do you understand, Ms. Graves?

Very much so, sir.

Mr. Snockett dangled a large red jeweled pendant into the shaft of light and swung it back and forth like a hypnotist’s charm. And for a moment, Ms. Graves was hypnotized. She just stood there, blinking, with her mouth ajar.

The pendant’s single red jewel was glowing.

For good luck on your journey, said Mr. Snockett.

I—er— the governess stammered, I cannot accept such a gift, sir.

Take it! the old man snapped, and Ms. Graves obeyed. The red jewel was about the size of a fifty-pence coin, but it was no longer glowing. Quite the opposite; the jewel now looked black in Ms. Graves’s hand. And it was ice cold.

The governess shivered.

Wear it. Always, Mr. Snockett said with a magician’s wave of his hand, and Ms. Graves felt dizzy. She shook her head, blinked, and in the next moment the dizziness lifted, and she clasped the pendant’s chain around her neck. She didn’t have a choice.

After all, one did not refuse a man like Oscar Snockett.

One

The Rightful Heirs

"Take it back!" Lucy shouted, and Billy Mahoney squealed in pain.

Lucy was on top of him now, pinning the boy on his stomach and twisting his arm behind his back. Billy tried to wriggle free, but Lucy wedged her thigh under his pudgy elbow and, shifting her weight, cranked his arm higher. Billy howled.

Lucy, stop it! cried her brother, Oliver, but Lucy just ignored him.

You take back what you said, Billy Mahoney, or I’ll break your arm!

Okay, okay, I take it back!

"Take what back?"

"Frog-face! You’re not a frog-face!"

Lucy let go of Billy and stood up—her fists ready just in case the bigmouth wanted to go a second round. But Billy, half-dazed and moaning, just rolled over and sat there rubbing his arm. The front of his Captain America T-shirt was filthy, and his chubby, freckled cheeks were beet red. Oliver tried to help him up, but Billy shook him off and rose unsteadily to his feet.

You okay? Oliver asked. Billy dragged his wrist under his nose. He was breathing hard, and Lucy could tell he was trying not to cry. For a long, tense moment there was only the buzz of insects and the soft babble of the river there in the woods, and then Billy narrowed his eyes at Lucy and said:

"Shoulda called you psycho instead."

Lucy set her teeth and lunged for him, but Oliver blocked her path and held her by the shoulders. His eyes were wide and pleading behind his glasses—Don’t do this! Not here! those eyes said.

Lucy held his gaze for a moment, then sighed and uncurled her fists.

Oliver let go of her and pushed up his glasses.

Let’s just forget about it, okay? he said, turning back to Billy—but Billy was already shuffling toward his bike. Where you going?

I need to get back to the store, Billy said quietly. He grabbed his bike by the handlebars and began pushing it up the bank. Oliver swiveled his eyes between Lucy and Billy, and after an awkward silence, said:

So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?

Billy shrugged, and a second later he was gone behind a clump of trees.

Lucy watched after him for a moment as Oliver picked up something off the ground. A crumpled bag of Skittles. Billy must’ve dropped it when she tackled him, Lucy figured, and a pang of guilt seized her heart. Billy was twelve, a year older than Lucy, but short for his age, like her. And he clearly knew nothing about fighting—which hardly made things fair. Lucy was an expert on fighting—not to mention she had really liked Billy up until he made that crack about her being a frog-face.

What happened? One minute the three of them were laughing and searching for turtles, and then the next . . .

You shouldn’t have done that, Oliver said, brushing some dirt off the Skittles. Billy was just talking trash like you were.

Lucy opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. She had been talking trash. Something about seeing Billy’s plumber’s crack when he bent over—which was true, and not nearly as bad as calling someone a frog-face. But still, Lucy could hardly consider herself an innocent bystander.

Anyway, don’t do that again, Oliver said. Billy’s my friend.

Lucy frowned. At least Oliver had a friend here in Watch Hollow—which was one more than Lucy had. Billy’s father owned the hardware store in town, and over the past two months, Oliver and Pop had gotten chummy with them. Billy’s father even made Pop a member of the Rotary Club. Lucy wasn’t quite sure what a Rotary Club was—only that her father thought it was a big deal and they didn’t let kids in.

Lucy’s eyes drifted back to the river. Oliver was right. Billy was just talking trash—and certainly no worse trash than idiots like Betty Bigsby used to talk back home in Massachusetts. But Lucy’s home now was here in Watch Hollow, Rhode Island. And for some reason, Billy talking trash was just one more thing about this place that made her feel . . . well . . . mixed-up was the only word Lucy could think of at the time.

Lucy’s stomach knotted. A thought had caught her by surprise, and yet Lucy understood on some level that it had been swimming around in her head for a while—just beneath the surface, like the turtles she sometimes caught in the shallow river. School would be starting next week. What if the kids here in Watch Hollow didn’t like her? What if they called her a frog-face, too?

All this flashed through Lucy’s mind in an instant, but when she met her brother’s eyes again, he looked away and dragged his wrist across his brow.

Oliver didn’t seem mixed-up these days. Just the opposite. Two months ago, his forehead and chin had been covered in pimples, but now his skin was clear and tan. The countless hours they’d spent outside had done wonders for his complexion. And not just that, Oliver’s arms looked almost muscular now. He didn’t spend nearly as much time cooped up inside with his comic books as before. In fact, Lucy couldn’t remember a time when she’d seen her brother so happy—that is, until she screwed things up.

Lucy nervously fingered the single braid of her long black hair. Her heart felt twenty pounds too heavy for her chest. I’m sorry, she said, and Oliver shoved the bag of Skittles into his pocket.

Let’s just forget about it.

But once they were back across the river, Lucy could tell that Oliver hadn’t forgotten about it. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at her as they wound their way up the long dirt driveway toward Blackford House. There were no woods on this side of the river, only clusters of flowering trees and

Reviews for Watch Hollow

[jalenv_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

If a glance at the plot makes you fear that Watch Hollow is a just a rip-off of John Bellairs' The House With a Clock in its Walls, don't worry. It's not. The clock is visible, for one thing. Only Lucy and Oliver Tinker's mother is dead. Their father, Charles Tinker, is very much alive. He's an excellent clocksmith, but has a poor head for business. That's why Tinker's Clock Shop is in financial trouble. 13-year-old Ollie is as mechanically-minded as his father. 11-year-old Lucy isn't. She's currently in trouble for having fought back when bully Betsy Bigby assaulted and insulted her. Her punishment ends during the first chapter, in time for British Mr. Mortimer Quigley to offer her Dad a goodly sum to fix his clock.It's the clock in one of the walls of Blackford House in Watch Hollow, Rhode Island. Lucy's not happy about spending the summer away from her friends and activities. Oliver, who would have been beaten up by Betty Bigsby's big brother, Theo, if not for some help from a crow, is just as glad to leave.

[skstiles612 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

One of the best books I've read this year. I love reading middle grade books because I teach middle grade students. This is one that will be on my shelves the day it comes out. Who wouldn’t love a story that had middle school age kids with all of their issues, monsters, a spooky house with talking animals? On top of that there is a monster in the woods called the Garr.The book opens with Lucy Tinker sitting in the display window of her dad’s clock repair shop. She is sitting there because she is in trouble. Her brother is trying to help her father. As they begin to close up a gentleman enters and makes a proposal that seems too good to be true. Mr. Quigley wants Mr. Tinker to repair a cuckoo clock in an old house he has recently acquired. He throws down a large amount of gold as an advance. Up to this point the family has had it financially tough. It doesn’t help that their mother had died from cancer two year before. Lucy seems to be the one who is often impulsive yet seems to be the glue holding them all together. Mr. Tinker agrees to move to the house and fix the clock. It seems that Mr. Quigley didn’t tell them everything they should have known. The house is very peculiar. There are talking animals. The woods seem to be alive with something evil within. Lucy can tell that something is not right. There father is thinking about how far the money would go. Trouble is not that far away. This book definitely takes you on a journey. The characters are very well done. My students could easily identify with them. Some of the problems they face are the same problems my own students face each day. This has easily become one of my favorites of this year. The adventure, magic, overall story will draw you in and hold you there for some time. I highly recommend this book.I received an advance copy to facilitate my review. The opinions expressed here are my own.